


to the sea

by luminarium



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Both Gaby and Illya are thirsty af for each other, F/M, Napoleon and Gaby are best buddies, Summer Vacation, and both are worried he'll roast in the sun, they want to see Illya letting off some steam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 10:42:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14893118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luminarium/pseuds/luminarium
Summary: The team takes some time off in the lovely beaches of Brazil and, while they are happy to relax, resting could prove to be their most challenging assignment yet.





	1. she's like a samba

“I have decided”.

 

“Oh, have you? Let’s have it, then.”

 

Three weeks ago, Gaby had reminded the team that it was her turn to pick this year’s holiday destination and all the men from UNCLE were secretly dreading her pick. The world was a very big place and, after a life behind the Iron Curtain, Gaby seemed determined to experience all of it, no matter how crazy or unattainable it sounded. They had witnessed her fearlessness in the field, the way she threw herself in danger’s way (much to Illya’s dismay) without dreading the consequences. Even though they were trained to endure strain and toil, the truth is her thirst for adventure was unmatched and, with such a particular assignment in her hands, they were afraid they wouldn’t be able to keep up with her enthusiasm for whatever she wanted to do.

 

“I want Rio de Janeiro” she stated, content with her final call.

 

Napoleon had been ready for anything _but_ that. He left the newspaper aside and looked past her, puzzled.

 

“Brazil?”

 

“Yes!” Gaby exclaimed, already beyond excited, as she handed him the colorful brochure, “It seems lovely, warm, full of history…

 

“…semi naked men…” he added, suggestively.

 

“… and likewise semi naked women, so?” Gaby finished, trying very hard to sound as playful and annoying as him.

 

He sighed, taking another look at the brochure. He was fine with the destination, and, in perspective, could see what drew Gaby to it, but Illya would surely prefer swimming with sharks or enchanting cobras than lay under the sun for three weeks.

 

“Are you sure about this, Gabs? I thought you would go for something bolder”

 

“I know but I’m sick and tired of London’s rainy weather. Some of us need sun, you know. Besides, this is not work. Waverly won’t be there to keep us on a leash. We’ll get to relax and have fun for once. _Real_ fun.”

 

“I’m actually starting to worry about this”, he sighed, absolutely conscious that he was being a tad melodramatic. Gaby placed her hands on her waist as a sign of defiance.

 

Suddenly, he perched up in his chair. “Wait a minute! Is this a scheme to get Illya out of his trademark polo neck and get to see him in a bathing suit?” he asked with a saucy smile.

 

At that, she punched him in the arm because of course it wasn’t (not entirely, at least, she thought, blushing furiously).

 

Rubbing, the sore spot right under his shoulder he went on:

 

“You are going to need a lot of sunscreen for the giant! I take it you will be in charge of putting it on…?”

 

“Give it back, Solo” she demanded a little too harshly as she took the piece of paper off Napoleon’s hands. “I’m taking this to Waverly. Pack your things. We’re leaving in two days”.

 

“Will you be wearing a bikini? Because that might just be it for the Red Peril!”.

 

She kept walking towards the door so her expression was concealed to him, but by now Napoleon could hear her exasperated huff he knew she made as if he were looking straight at her.

 

“You are impossible, you know that?”

 

Reclining back as the door slammed behind him, he flashed a white smile and picked up his paper to resume his reading, actually proud of himself.

 

“Oh, I do”.


	2. when he passes, I smile but he doesn't see

Gaby thanked the bell boy that had helped them pick up their suitcases and tipped him generously. The charming smile she had on when she handed him the fifty dollar bill disappeared as she re-entered the room.

 

“What was that?” she began, already testy.

 

“What?” came her supposed husband’s reply.

 

“This, you, not talking to anybody”.

 

Illya put his hands in his pockets and shrugged. Gaby sighed.

 

“Look, this is a holiday. Maybe you are unfamiliar with the concept but please, try to be civil to the people at the hotel and me for the next few days ahead of us”.

 

At this, he perched up. He threw his head up so quickly his cap almost fell off.

 

“Have I offended you in any way, chop shop?”

 

“Offended?”

 

She scoffed and looked down at her feet. Her long eyelashes, appealing as they were, concealed her eyes from him. Just what he wanted to see right now.

 

“Well, you didn’t say a word to me until _now_ ; what you barely uttered was directed at Napoleon. You have not said a single positive thing about this trip and, just now, you spent the entire elevator ride looking at the bell boy as if you were _trying to melt him with your gaze_. Seriously, Illya…”

 

Gaby stopped talking at the feel of his hands on her arms. Her breath hitched and she was surprised at how glad her body was to be so near his. The room was dimly lit, as sunlight came through the closed yellow drapes. Under this gentle light, she looked up at him and stood motionless under his scrutiny, as if she had nothing to hide. Not anymore. 

 

She physically felt him soften, as if he were releasing a tension long-held.

 

“I… am sorry, Gaby. I am not used to having… holidays, and I am still having a hard time, as Cowboy says, to wrap my head around it. I am happy, however, that you brought us here, and I will do whatever is in my power for you to enjoy it. You deserve it” he finished solemnly in a low voice. 

 

He suddenly stopped and Gaby thought he was about to add something. Apart from _chop shop_ – a term that only Illya used with her, one that she had come to treasure as one of endearment – he had many times had said words in Russian that seemed to function similarly but she knew not what they meant. Napoleon claimed not to have listened every time and would not be of any use.

 

The beach, the sun, everything she had come looking was waiting for her outside the little hotel room but she couldn’t manage to stop staring at those beautiful eyes of his. Those that every time seem to tease her with a different kind of ocean, both icy and yet utterly warm, in which to swim… and maybe drown. She would gladly take the risk, and was about to, if only…

 

He stepped back. 

 

“Now. Let us begin, yes?”

 

The ghost of all their collection of unfinished kisses revisited her in a second. Puzzled and a bit disappointed to have him out of her reach again, she asked him to be more precise.

 

“Go join Cowboy at the beach. Take everything you need. Don’t forget sunscreen.”

 

She looked at her bag and, when he didn’t move, proceeded to take off her hat. Sitting on the bed, she began removing her heels.

 

Realizing he was staring, he cleared his throat and made for the door. She turned to him, alarmed, resisting the urge to walk to him with just one shoe. They had been so close to... whatever this was, and now they seemed miles apart, as if there was more than an ocean between them. 

 

“What about you?” she asked, calling him back, in her own way. 

 

Adjusting his cap and putting his hands in his pockets, he gave her a brief answer before leaving swiftly: 

 

“I’ll join you later”.


	3. let's be tan and lovely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fic was going to have three chapters, but, while I was writing, I felt the last scene deserved its own, so we're going to have four. I hope you are enjoying it so far and thank you for the kudos and comments! They mean a lot to me!

“He will come when he’s ready.”

 

She pretended as if she had not just been looking straight at the hotel entrance and turned with all the elegance she could muster to her companion. “Oh?”

 

Napoleon raised himself up on his elbows and covered his face with a hand to shield the sun he had been gloriously basking in to look at her.

 

“Have you not spent the last fifteen minutes you’ve been here looking over your shoulder to see if our dearest partner had made it at last, hopefully in an advanced state of undress?”

 

He paused, just enough to get a glimpse of her annoyed yet guilty expression and laid back down. “Oops, my bad.”

 

Gaby huffed and laid down as well, trying her hardest to prove to Napoleon that Illya coming or not had nothing to do with her enjoyment.

 

The attempt, however, was short-lived.  

 

“This is so immature of him.”  

 

Napoleon sighed tiredly. He sat on the white sand with ease and looked at her right in the face.  Even though he was shirtless – much to the approval of all those who had chosen that particular afternoon to be there, who would have pointed him out, no doubt, to be one of the city’s current attractions – and his wet curls were falling messily on his forehead, he retained the same poise and smoothness he undoubtedly possessed when wearing one of his most expensive three-piece suits.

 

What unnerved Gaby, however, was how serious he sounded when he spoke to her then.

 

“Remember what you said about the beauty of the holidays? Us, finally off the leash? I think that includes Peril, don’t you?”

 

He limited himself to simply look at her, as if he was waiting for an answer. He knew she wouldn’t yield, but he could feel her mortification nonetheless.

 

“Look, Gabs,” he resumed, in a conciliatory tone. “If he told you he’d be here… he’ll be here. Relax.”

 

Easier said than done, she thought stubbornly, but deep down she knew he had a point. She had not traveled all this way to be bitter.

 

Gaby gave him a slight nod which seemed to be enough for Napoleon, who smiled with renewed energy.

 

“Great! Now,” he stood and she could swear she could hear all of their neighbours - both men and women with golden bodies and pleased expressions - sitting up to witness him standing, all covered in sand and sunlight. “What do you say we go take a splash on that big mass of warm, clear water, eh?”

 

She too, stood and felt adrenaline course through her body. She was proudly sporting a bikini for the first time in her life – red, because Napoleon liked to think he was funny, even when making gifts – and, by God, she would put it to good use.

 

“Should we make a run for it?” he asked, but she was already sprinting towards the sea. Her laughter was loud and contagious.

  

“Better get a move on, then, Solo!”

 

“Minx” he breathed and proceeded to follow after her.


	4. cool, gentle, young and lovely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took me so long to get here! Now you know the real reason why I always try to write one-shots. 
> 
> Anyways! The last installment. I hope it is to your statisfaction! Feedback, as always, is greatly appreciated.

 

“Let me down, you _brute_!” Gaby’s voice, hoarse from laughter, raised above the sound of splashing water momentarially before she was dropped into the sea again by a very smug Napoleon, who didn’t take long to extract his revenge of being beaten to the shore.

 

“As the lady requires!” he yelled back, a little breathless from the exertion but mainly from cackling at Gaby’s expense, as she tried to find her feet among the rolling waves with the elegance of a newly-born giraffe.

 

Dizzy and giddy from all the excitement and unbridled joy, she stood as best as she could with all the intention of running after him and tackle his trademark white smile off his face. Just as she was regaining her posture, the sea roared behind her and a bigger mass of water threatened her balance. She would have fallen right then and there to Napoleon’s delight - and woe, since he would have regretted sorely not having the camera with him to record the _sweet, sweet_ sequence of her falling flat on her face - were it not for a massive form, both soft and solid, that prevented her from tasting the salty waters of repeated humiliation.

 

She brought a hand to her face to wipe out the hair from her eyes - her neat bun was long gone by now - and the sight of a very wet Illya made her heart jump to her throat. She stopped giggling immediately before his intense gaze. His eyes conveyed worry, perhaps some surprise but also something she couldn’t quite place that made her surrender completely to the refuge of his arms.

 

Napoleon caught sight of this and stopped himself from calling out to them. The sea had pulled them together and he would not be responsible for pulling them apart any time soon. He smiled to himself and went back to where they had left their things in the sand.

 

“Are you alright, chop shop?”

 

“Yes” she reassured him, trying to calm herself. “You came”.

 

He squared his shoulders and tilted his head. “I told you I would. Needed time to think."

 

He paused to look down at her body in the red bikini. "See you’ve been swimming with Cowboy” he noted, with a thicker accent than usual. 

 

Gaby wanted to giggle and bury her head in his chest. 

 

“I’ve swallowed more sea water than I would’ve cared to, that’s for sure”.

 

“Did you have fun?”

 

She would have sworn she heard him whisper, although it could have been that the rest of the people around them were too loud, splashing and running back and forth.  

 

“Yes".

 

She exhaled, content and happy, perhaps for the first time ever.

 

His icy blue eyes softened at that and if she hadn’t already fallen in love with him a long time ago, his expression would have done the trick.

 

“Good” he stated with a new depth to his voice that reverberated in his chest and went straight to her core. He stepped back from her, not letting her go very far before catching her in his arms again, ready to carry her anywhere. “What would the lady want to do next?” he asked as he were hers to command, almost brushing his nose with hers, looking at her with his usual intensity.

 

Drunk with the power he surrendered to her, she smiled triumphantly as she pressed herself to him and took a breath. His cool body was beginning to heat up under the sun’s influence (and hers, hopefully), if the feel of her lips on his shoulder was any indication. As she breathed in his scent she kissed the sea goodbye right then and there.

 

Eager to take him out of the merciless radiation (and beyond the sight of the flawlessly gorgeous _garotas_ with golden skin), she whispered to him to take her back to their room. His body tensed and then quickly relaxed beneath her fingers at her request. The distant roaring of the sea and the giggles of the oblivious crowd accompanied them all the way back to the hotel, where they would revel in the exquisiteness of being, for once, off the radar in a world that was solely and entirely theirs.   


End file.
